


Suite in B Minor

by KuriKoer



Series: Bedfellows [1]
Category: Mob City
Genre: Domestic, Established, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Slash, flatmates, good old tropes, romantic, shopping for curtains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 05:43:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5485748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuriKoer/pseuds/KuriKoer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request: sharing a bed</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suite in B Minor

They started out in a one-bedroom apartment - one room, actually, narrow double bed cramped next to a kitchen corner and a single ancient wardrobe smelling like mothballs and mold. Terry too tall for the bed and starting the night with his legs bent in half like a giant baby, Sid spooned in the curve of his body. Ending the night with his legs stretched a foot outside the bed and the blankets, hurriedly pulling them back in when the freezing air wakes him up.

They got ahead in life since then. Money pouring in, power with it, and one day Sid goes out and buys a house. An actual house, not as big as Benny's or as ostentatious, but decent, in a nice neighborhood, with a small garden and a large master bedroom.

"Two separate wardrobes," he says to Terry, leaning against the doorjamb of their old apartment, watching him sitting on the bed. Terry looks forlorn but after Sid says what he said he brightens up, sudden and smiling. He gets up and start packing his things and Sid waits patiently.

It occurs to Sid that Terry wasn't sure he was moving too.

Thing is, it started as just sharing a bed for warmth and out of necessity, but then sometimes. Sometimes Terry would hold Sid close, shallowly thrusting his hips, and Sid would roll over and they'd rut against each other in the dark, under the shared blanket, and they weren't cold for a little while longer. Sometimes Sid would climb over Terry and search that hardness of him with his own, and they'd go at it, panting against each other's necks and saying nothing. Other times Terry would reach a hesitant hand and Sid would nod and do the same for Terry. It didn't mean anything, but Sid isn't ready to give that up.

Terry walks into the new house with a suitcase in each hand, one full of guns and one full of everything else he owns. He looks around.

Sid says, "It came furnished," and Terry says, "I like it."

Sid says, "Kitchen over there. There's a full bathroom suite, in here." He walks Terry through the house. "Guest bedroom. Some kind of laundry closet. Another guest bedroom. And here," he opens the door. "Two wardrobes. Room for more suits."

Terry looks. The master bed is long and wide. There's a dresser on either side of it. He turns to Sid and smiles broadly. Then he goes to hang his suits.

They start the night on the far ends of the bed but around midnight when Sid wakes up to pee, Terry's arms are around him. He extracts himself and makes sure the blanket covers Terry's feet before he leaves the bed. When he comes back, he gets under the blanket pile in the middle, waits a moment before he snuggles closer.

He wakes again in the morning to Terry's erection and turns around to take care of it. Terry returns the favor with a smile. It doesn't mean anything. They just take care of each other.

Having a working shower and hot water in your own home is useful when both of you come home spattered in blood. Sid makes two cups of tea while Terry washes, and drinks half of his. He takes a shower after that and when he comes out Terry has a plate of biscuits out and Sid's cup of tea is fresh and hot.

Two weeks later it's an early evening for them both. Sid's reading in bed and Terry's lying idly on his back, when suddenly he moves, flops over. Sid looks up over his book. Terry slides under the blankets, heading south, and Sid wants to ask _what are you doing_ but he's not an idiot. He keeps his mouth shut while under the blanket Terry's hands move up and down his thighs, fingers pulling his underwear down to his knees, and Terry's mouth is hot and amazingly beautiful. Sid's eyes close and he lets his forgotten book fall to the side and he groans, low and deep in his throat. Head against the headboard and Terry's tongue is better at this than it should be. Hands keep running up and down his thighs. Sid is breathing heavily and it's too hot in here, undershirt sticking to his chest so he peels it off and tosses it to the side, and Terry is still under the blanket, head moving up and down. Sid just lies back and keeps as still as he can, sweat shining on his bare chest. Afterwards Sid is still catching his breath and Terry emerges from the blankets and gives him a little shy smile and says "Good night", and rolls on his side and goes to sleep.

Sid keeps lying there, sated from the top of his head to his tiptoes, but something is niggling in his mind. This thing, this felt like a _thank you_. Sid doesn't like that Terry feels a need to thank him, like they're not equal or something. Sid doesn't like owing and he doesn't like being owed to. It keeps him up at night.

Three days later the kitchen is bright with morning sunshine and Terry takes the pan full of eggs off the stove. Sid waits until the pan is safe and then he grabs Terry's shoulder and spins him around, lets his ass hit the edge of the counter. Meets his eyes and then drops to his knees and like in everything else he does, Sid is thorough and dedicated. At first Terry gasps and then he whines, and then he takes the spatula and bites down on the long handle. He keeps moaning with the wood between his teeth, muffled and quiet.

Afterwards they sit down and have breakfast, Sid pouring coffee, Terry dealing a hefty portion of eggs into each plate. Sid takes a big bite of steaming fluffy yellow, then a big gulp of orange juice. He feels hungry, invigorated. Quietly pleased with himself.

Terry is looking at him, a long, assessing look. Sid takes another bite of his eggs and meets his stare head on.

Terry shrugs and says amiably, "I liked the taste." Then he starts on his own breakfast.

Sid stops eating for a second. Then he tucks back into the eggs, and takes an extra slice of toast.

That night in bed neither one of them makes the first step but somehow they're kissing and it's the most natural thing in the world. Terry's caressing Sid's hair and Sid clutches at Terry's shoulders, and this time when Terry gets on top of him and they slide hard and entirely naked against each other it's familiar and old and comfortable, but it's different and new and it's something else. It counts.

The next time they do this, and the next time they grasp each other's cocks in sure, warm hands, and the next time Sid takes Terry in his mouth or Terry slides between Sid's legs, the next time and the next time, it counts every time.


End file.
